Great Quotes: Archive

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Week of March 25, 2009:
"Action indeed is the sole medium of expression for ethics."
-Jane Addams

Only the frightened scholar confines his studies to one discipline. Beyond his cloister sprawls a vast world of contradictions and considerations that cannot possibly be examined from inside his high academic walls. Wander forth scholars to the far-gone marketplaces of knowledge and their peddlers of strange goods. Modernity affords us numerous testaments to this spirit of intellectual wandering. I identify one above others, for it is March, or, to those in the profession, Social Work Month. Philosophy, history, psychology, sociology, economics, jurisprudence: a long list of wares in this particular bazaar. Social work encompasses these various fields, uniting those most virtuous humanities with the oftentimes crass and demystifying sciences. Yet, it is not a warped union. Empiricism and logic are not only found in the cruelly revealing studies of modernists, but also in Bacon, Hume, Kant, and others. Nothing implies the wrongness of science or its method in its own right. Merely its application to simplify the complicated, to make menial the grand; this is what must be denounced. As it is employed in social work, however, I have no complaints to advance. Restating the mission statement of fine institutions such as Chicago’s venerable School of Social Service Administration, proper social work combines theory and practice, each using the other as a basis for its effectiveness. Long have I professed the importance of the applicable philosophy; any thoughts that deal with this world should be applicable to it. Social work, as a discipline that advocates my belief, at the very least demonstrates its merit in this regard.

            In honor of the month, let us dedicate our inquiries to Addams’ quote solely in regards to her field. First, a hypothesis: Addams’ quote implies a process by which social work is conducted. An incomplete process, as presented, but a process nonetheless. This claim is readily proven as we will now embark on. Consider social works solely regarding ethics and actions. Surely social work consists of very little else aside from the two, as its ethics always dictate its actions. Ethics, however, accounts for the humanities side of social work, dealing with philosophy and internal matters of the mind. Social work, in no small part, is always informed by, and working with, evidence. Scientific research gathers a body of evidence which is equally important as ethics in dictating action. Let us thus expand Addams quote, that action expresses not only ethics, but also evidence. No one will fault Addams herself for this exclusion; after all, she was one of the mothers of evidence-based practice in social work. Considering her historical works and acquaintances, it is fully reasonable to infer this expansion of meaning. This being said, our process is not yet complete. Let us see the final aspect. If actions are the expression of ethics and evidence, what does action itself express itself towards? Clearly there must be an end in sight of an action. This end itself, while unquestionably guided by both the ethics and evidence, is a distinctive part of the process. While expression can be done for its own sake, as in all manner of artistry and literature, social work, a practical science, is not so intangible. Action, as an expression of a practical and tangible science, must maneuver to a practical and tangible end. Do not mistake me for insinuating that social work only pursues physical, concrete goals. This is an absurd generalization. I merely offer that social work pursues worldly goals that find worldly application to worldly entities. Proceed with this qualification in mind.

            There we have it, the process hinted at in Addams’ quote. In these terms, I shall rephrase it. In social work, ethics and evidence are expressed through action, this action being dedicated to an ethical and empirical end. Certainly there exist more nuanced definitions of social work, and I concede the inadequacies that this humble definition possesses. Admitting of this, however, it is a fair and just simplification of social work. It does not leave elements out. Rather, it packs all the elements into a few words. As such, we can consider it a reasonably operable definition. But how do we use this definition? Owing to the spirit of this month, it would be shameful to craft a procedural tool without testing and/or applying it to a suitably worldly end.

            Co-occurring with social work month is the University of Chicago Crime Lab competition. This University institution promises funding to an agency or agencies that draw up a feasible plan aimed at combating youth firearm violence in the city. This plan must account not only for the philosophical aspects of the problem, but must be similarly grounded in evidence and data. After implementing the winning program, Crime Lab intends to evaluate it for further empirical information. Returning to Addams’ quoted process, Crime Lab provides the ethics, evidence, and end for organizations, which then must come up with the action. Naturally, no one action will fully solve the problem, but through each individual one, Crime Lab can continually sharpen its evidence to move ever closer towards its end.

            Evidence and empiricism are a critical element of the social work process. Addams was fully correct in her assignation of research and data to proper social work. Actions intended to effect the tangible world should be born of that tangible world themselves. I present this by way of a disclaimer, as Bacon’s method and its subsequent applications are by no means to be derided or denounced as a whole. Social work, however, like so many other sciences in this modern world, runs a risk of forgetting its ethics. Prior to proceeding, let me clarify that by ethics and the term “ethical” I mean solely those intangible and inward principles governing human interaction; I do not use this term in the Christian sense of “good” or “virtuous.” Continuing, I do not imply that such sciences truly do sacrifice philosophical and ethical considerations in favor of empirical ones. Merely, these oftentimes abstruse and immaterial concepts risk becoming crushed in an avalanche of concrete facts and numbers. Intuition guides this argument. For those that read, or have read, modern sociological or ethnographic papers, or any comparably scientific document dealing with people and their interactions; would you not be shocked if the author quoted Smith’s moral theory? If you can imagine that, picture on further. Could that author quote Aristotle instead? Nietzsche? Camus? Could he get away with quoting more than one? Apply a similar line of inquiry to any number of other scientific materials; social scientists, to which social workers belong, shy away from such sources almost as a rule. Crime Lab requested that possible programs be supported with evidence. Can you conceive of a report being submitted that quoted solely from Hobbes and Rousseau?

            And yet, Hobbes and Rousseau masterfully discuss societal violence. Why are they and their kind so discounted amongst the social scientists? With such a vast body of empirical data at social work’s and social science’s disposal, perhaps it is time for these fields to crane their heads outside of their own gardens. Under no circumstances should this be done at the expense of their findings, but similarly, these findings should not be upheld at the expense of the ethics. Indeed, now we find ourselves back at the unmodified incarnation of Addams quote. Perhaps it was intentional that she left it at action and ethics. Evidence is unquestionably important, but it shall always be present. By highlighting the action and ethics, Addams may have been suggesting that we social scientists not lose sight of our inward impressions of humanity, nor the impressions belonging to those men of genius who came before us. On a more radical tract, Addams use of “sole” may indeed oblige social scientists to work together with philosophers. Or, alternately, oblige the philosophers to do something more than write, but that is a topic for another time.

Wandering men are not lost men, as well we know. So too are wandering disciplines not lost disciplines. Social work and social sciences, deeply beneficial and powerful that they are, could certainly benefit from a bit of wandering into the shops of men from Plato to Poe, and from Spinoza to Sartre

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Week of July 21 - July 27:
"Modernity is the transient, the fleeting, the contingent; it is one half of art, the other being the eternal and the immovable "
-Charles Baudelaire, The Painter of Modern Life


    Baudelaire presents us with three equations here, all naturally related by some pseudomathematical calculation. On the obvious side of things, Art is equal to the addition of Modernity and the Eternal/Immovable. This is all well and good if you are interested in art, but many readers of this site will find themselves more inclined towards ventures not traditionally thought of as artistic. For my purposes, a far more interesting pair of equations are those listed below in our pseudmathematical form...
1. Modernity = Art - Eternal/Immovable
2. Eternal/Immovable = Art - Modernity
     As elementary a logical leap as this is, it accesses an area of study bearing pointed interest to me. Instead of Art being the object of Baudelaire's investigations, the elements of Modernity and the Eternal now are. Art is now a way to reach these two qualities, making the inquiry far more suited to this site's purpose. Baudelaire provides us with a way to define these two vague and unknown states using something art. We know that those facets of Modernity are related to more than simple years and centuries; modernity transcends beyond temporal considerations. Same with the Eternal, which does not just refer to things that are very very old. These are not words that describe a time or a span of time. These are childish definitions for powerful terms, and I would feel ill at ease leaving them at that. There is something more to both than just time can say, and Baudelaire gives us a portal of entrance.

    Two obstacles immediately confront us. Baudelaire offers a nice aggregate, but fails to elaborate on the individual parts. Perhaps more worryingly, art itself seems less simply defined than I would suggest. This is no Scylla and Charybdis dilemma, with both barriers needing to be crossed to take anything away from our two relationships of interest. Worry not, for both do have their solutions. Problem number one sees us with words (transient, contingent, immovable, etc.) without unique definitions. How stupid would monsieur have to be to hand us the specifics either within the text as a whole or by pointing to a dictionary? Surely he understood that such words would stand on their own. And they do. We have seen before that feeling is always meaning, and there is a distinct sense to these words that invokes a reaction. No sooner than the words leave Baudelaire’s pen, I already take offense. He does not present modernity as a thing of progress, revolution, breakthrough, etc. It is purely whimsical. These are light and airy words meant to invoke ambivalence and apathy. I have plenty of both after reading them. Mind you, this is not the important definition of modernity we seek. Any reader of this site likely knows my proclivity towards the relation between modernity and these words. Nothing new about that. But it is a reference point. Consider the scientific approach of dimensional analysis, whereby the units of the individual components of an equation are analyzed so as to determine the units of the solution. Baudelaire has given us these units, so to speak. We are not looking for units of time. This is too specific and narrowminded. Rather, we are looking for an overall ‘unit’ of modernity that invokes similar feelings of disgust as those felt in these three words.
     Similarly with those words of eternal, immovable. They ring so much higher than their predecessors, stauncher, defiantly standing their majestic ground. This impression lies in the syntax itself. Those three sickening words are listed one after another, a blurred slew of virtual profanities on which we could tack as many other synonyms as we saw fit. But they are not synonyms. They are each distinctly wrong, with their own corresponding nausea and outrage. This is not true of those last two. Baudelaire says it is the ‘other’, the eternal and immovable. He did not say the ‘others’. Eternal and immovable are not two different qualities for this quote’s purposes. They are different angles of one image. If we were to compile a list here, instead of accumulating different senses of grandeur, we would have one incredibly detailed and filled in image that provides the same overall feel. Those words of modernity are fleeting and uniquely vile. Those of the Eternal may be many, but they are just different views of one thing.

    With that out of the way, let us look at art itself. That word itself is a wee bit complex for utter deconstruction and definition right now. But that is perfectly alright. In fact, it is ideal. Just as with the previous three words, we are not looking for specific definitions. We are looking for impressions. Everyone has a different feeling from this idea of art. It represents such a diverse gallery of emotions and objects that there is no point trying to catalogue it. To some it is painting and drawing, to others a musical form, a dramatic one, ballets and hip hop showdowns. It is no more Dali than it is Degas, neither Bach, Beatles, or Biggy, and Shakespeare has no greater stake in art than Bruce Lee. Exhaustive lists would be too exhausting to attempt. Yet, that is the point. No specific definition of art can hold up without undue argument, but one impression will be universal: diversity. Art is art in its multitude, not its singular definitiveness.
     Now to our pseudomath. Modernity is equal to that diversity of art and its forms without those immovable and eternal qualities. What does that leave us with? Pure aesthetic pleasure. Art is surely all aesthetic on some level, but there is the faux, whimsical aesthetics of Brittney Spears, and there is the inspiring and riling aesthetics of Beethoven. Using art as the cornerstone of his quote, Baudelaire has condemned this aestheticism of modernity. A Nietzschen ideal in a sense, but we leave the Genius out of this for now. Modernity is represented, or simply just is, frivolous art. Consider it this way. Much of this present modernity is focused around money and what it can buy. Clothes, shoes, cars, houses, accessories, expensive dinners, etc. All of these offer an appearance, an aesthetic one. Modernity quite literally is the frivolously aesthetic nowadays. Perhaps Baudelaire did not foresee what would become of the world, for I doubt that his own modernity was quite so grim as this one. But just as the Eternal, Immovable, and all other synonyms are part of one grand thing, so too does his quote reach past the alleged confines of his time. The diversity of art yields the brilliant, the uninspired, and the ridiculous. Modernity is just art, but with all that is brilliant and eternal removed. It is a hedonistic state, an aesthetically lustful one. All artists are not part of this disaster, but many are to blame for doing so little to oppose it, or now that it has come, fight against it. Anything else is complacency in the face of corruption.

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Week of June 30- July 6:
" In the arts, feeling is always meaning."
-Henry James, Essays.
With profoundest thanks to Professor Veeder for granting me this wondrous quote.


    Observe the first tool of my investigations. Never will I wander the bogs and thickets of cognition without this in my left hand. Next week it shall be joined by its partner in exploration, but for now, I must introduce you to the importance of these words. It is a fact that writing is overflowing with ambiguity. Whether you choose to replace my purely quantitative word with 'blessed', 'cursed', or various other verbs is your choice. I will certainly fail in my purpose if you are to leave with a pejorative term in mind. For now, it does not matter which word you used, because all of us can attest to encounters with uncertainty in our reading escapades. From syntax to synonyms, no text is without an area of eyebrow raising. "Why was this word chosen over another." "Why are all those messy commas in that sentence." "Why end the question without a question mark?" Surely these call our attention. The question is, why?
    First assume that we are not reading bad writing. In unedited and ill-thought texts, ambiguity is not a sign of the higher qualities we search for  here. It is mere sloppiness and a failure of imagination. But no one in their reasonable mind would accuse such authors as I favor, Poe, Nietzsche, Hawthorne, Carlyle, of these sins. Perhaps they are evil, unreasonable, antisocial, goading, or just plain mad, but they were not sloppy or stupid in their works. Broadening to artists in general, there is no mistake to be found in Miles Davis or Beethoven, no faulty line and stroke in Goya or Dali, no trip or stumble in Bruce Lee or Musashi. Greatness simply does not allow for these errors. Certainly the Great do not fall prey to the modern affliction of the thesaurus, employing a word just to appear smart or eloquent. Their words are conjured from an internal spring, not pirated from their neighbor's well. Higher still than words is meaning. Who is to rightly say what another individual's work means? There exists no catalog or expert on the correct interpretations. What can we do to determine, or even approach, truth in this regard? Whether observing single words or their entirety, what options do we have at deciphering?
    Without launching into an affirming argument, I hold that art is creation. That is also to say that art is creative in the vernacular sense; of or related to the imagination (Deeper application of this definition leads to some odd and concerning questions about nonhuman creation, such as things created by nature, and those implications following for nature itself. If this is haltingly worrisome, continue to read the words of the highly influential Doctor Korr) As we are looking at human art, we are also looking at human creation and imagination. I now present another theory; the tool used to evaluate a subject should also be used to produce that subject. Let us look at the SAT Tests as an example. If I studied very hard for days on end and memorized a dictionary, not only could I do very well on the Verbal portion of the exam, related to vocabulary, but I could also write a rather difficult section of that same exam myself. What about for a story, say, Poe's Ligeia. If I read the dictionary all day, studied perfect grammar and proper sentence structure, etc. would I be able to produce a comparable text? Maybe, but certainly not on these studies alone. If I learned how to paint, use brushes, mix colors, stretch canvases, and all the other feats of visual art, could I produce Francis Bacon's Portrait of Pope Innocent X? Again, not on those studies alone. Something else is at work here. It is this something that not only creates these works, but also gives them meaning. There is more to these compositions than their technical components.
    We shall call this 'feeling.' More specifically, it is the internal and creative element of humans manifested. Once created, art is not necessarily imbued with certain feelings from its creator. But it definitely is bursting with feelings period. The internal, creative process, the feelings going into the work makes it only understandable and interpretable by those who employ their own. By no means are all humans the same. But all humans do have a level of feeling, and all humans respond to external impulses (art for instance) in some way if not the same way. Poe and Bacon created their works from the deepest recesses and loftiest spires of their spirits, and only with our own spirits can we truly visit these. To relegate them to the dregs of technicality is a grave sin, not only blindly avoiding the meaning of the created work, but actively working to pulverize its sanctity. In case you do not believe me, I turn to an illustration created by a dear teacher of mine. Professor William Veeder introduced me to this quote, as I have said, and it is an example I now give in a spirit after one of his own.
1. My shirt is white
2. White is my shirt.
3. My thuggin' Hanes T is bleached like the Elephant Shaman's tusk.
Despite the similarities between the structure and words in these sentences, they clearly each mean something utterly different. The same is true of those works and artists above. Their own choices throughout, whether line, color, word, or punctuation, each invoke a meaning unique from any alternatives.
    In my own investigations on this site, I will tread paths intersecting with many an artist and their works. I claim no absolutely knowledge over their meaning, but I do claim mastery of this tool. My own feelings will dictate interpretation, and it is my hope that you at least feel something, if not those similar to my own. At this point, I further pray that you have seen, or should I say felt, the truth of this argument. That being said, an apology must be presented. Perhaps it is wrong to attempt to explain and reason through the contention that feeling is always meaning. If that be the case, however, then I trust those higher readers will have read the quote and stopped right there without reading forward. And if not? The meaning lies herein to be found. My business is not dispelling. It  is conjuration.

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Week of June 23-29:

"Human nature is not a machine to be built upon after a model, and set to do exactly the work prescribed for it, but a tree, which requires to grow and develop itself on all sides, according to the tendency of the inward forces which make it a living thing."
-John Stuart Mill, On Liberty

    Considering that I have seen not one person all day without a cell phone in hand, to what extent are we now not built as a machine? Implicit in Mill's observation is that machinery itself is to blame, at least in part. Industrial forces were on the rise at the time of this text's publication, and classically educated Mill likely had some issue with this. Justifiably so, as we see today. To begin with, our reliance on technology is rather high, an addiction which we cannot break from. I cannot see this needing proof other than just a walk down the street, a ride on the bus, or a bite to eat at a local eatery. That being said, I admit that this entire website would be impossible without my laptop to type on, a server far away to store it, my Bose speakers on which I am listening to Cowboy Bebop (Adieu), and a delicious smoothie which would be impossible to make, let alone get the ingredients for, without technology. Is there anything inherently corrupting and dangerous about smoothies and speakers? Certainly not. How would I reach out to my wide audience without all these wires under my desk, and their enormous family around the world? Without serious proof or investigation of the issue (which may merit a future in depth look), technology alone does not appear to be some rampaging, evil djinn bent on world termination. At least, not wholly. But to see what part it has to play, let us turn to some other forces that are more culpable.
    Jumping on board the blame-train, I point my finger at society as a whole. Sadly, this is not an original accusation anymore, with everyone from news analysts to ostracized teenagers blaming the vast, amorphous forces of society. Too bad, because society is certainly a chief perpetrator of our machinization. Present society is like that evil dictator in an Orwellian dystopia; its face is everywhere, and it has roles that it wants to be filled. Economic and political forces are direct underlings of society, evil lieutenants to continue our Orwell metaphor. People go to high school, go to college, and then enter the work force in any one of thousands of career options. "But Mr. Editor, thousands of career options does not seem very mechanical to me. That seems like a real choice, different paths for different sorts of folk; more like Mill's tree than his machine." In this case, the illusion is created by numbers. Yes, there are thousands of paths in the world, but they are no different that Bolt A is from Screw B; they have different functions, but are ultimately inescapably subordinated to the larger functioning model. They quite literally fulfill "exactly the work prescribed". The vast, vast majority of humans enter into professions which were already defined before they even expressed interest, before they even were born. Their entering into a career of choice will not be able, by the "tendency of the inward forces", to modify the job itself beyond its overall functioning parameter. Teachers will still teach, police will still enforce laws, authors will still write, technicians will still repair, etc. Admittedly, there is a little leeway here, where careers can jump over their individual boundaries and seep into others. But this is only limited, and ultimately still confined by the original profession. Perhaps it is like a tree, albeit one growing under a box that cannot push further.
    While society is frequently blamed, the approach I have taken above, through Mill's quote, is certainly less common than the usual. More importantly, it is more damning, more illustrative, and more upsetting. Mill's  indictment of society and industry, occurring some 150 years before our time, has turned from criticism into prophecy. A prediction of black smoke and assembly lines, moving from factory to street, from plant to home. And implicit in this, is that we can do something about it, yet not as part of the machine. We must be the tree that took root under the mechanics, that tree that bursts through in a crash of cogs and gears, the tree that stretches taller and wider than the smokestacks and furnaces. That is what we must be.